Buried
by Evenstar656
Summary: If he panicked he would start breathing faster, if he started breathing faster he would use up the oxygen more quickly, if he used up the oxygen more quickly then he would die more quickly.


Title: Buried

Author: Evenstar656

Summary: If he panicked he would start breathing faster, if he started breathing faster he would use up the oxygen more quickly, if he used up the oxygen more quickly then he would die more quickly.

Spoilers: Star Trek Into Darkness, general AOS

Disclaimer: The Star Trek franchise and its characters are property of Paramount.

Author's Notes: This is what happens when PopSci has an article on being buried alive…of course Jim had to suffer. Just a bit of shameless h/c. As always, although I am a doctor I'm not that kind so I happily practice with my fictional degree. Have a wonderful Holiday season!

Warnings: There are two scenes that involve abuse and torture of a minor. It's not terribly graphic, but please read at your own discretion.

_I apologize for any mistakes, this was un-beta'd_

###

_Just stay calm. _

_Take slow, deep breaths._

_Just stay calm._

_In, out, in, out, in, out._

He opened his eyes, or at least he thought he opened his eyes. There was nothing, only darkness. A quick feel of his eyes assured him that they were indeed open. His hand bumped into something only a few inches from his face. Long fingers roamed over the surface. He was in some sort of stone box. He had been buried alive.

_Just stay calm. _

_Take slow, deep breaths._

_Just stay calm._

_In, out, in, out, in, out._

There were flashes of being led down a hallway with the Venuvians and then everything went black. They were an exceptionally pious race of humanoids that they had been attempting to make first contact with. Despite being very tall with long ears and very pale skin, they had been very hospitable and things had been going well. At least they had been going well until recently.

He ran his hands along the stone in front of him and felt that it was one solid piece for as far down as he could reach. It was on all four sides of him, and the hard stone was not helping his back any. There was just enough room for him to fit in the space with a couple of inches to spare in either direction. The stone slab was too heavy to push up; he was stuck there until someone pulled him out. The top slab was completely flush with the walls, meaning that no outside air was coming in. That someone better hurry.

_Just stay calm. _

_Take slow, deep breaths._

_Just stay calm._

_In, out, in, out, in, out._

Based on the size of the container, and if he could keep his breathing under control, he figured that he had a maximum of 5 hours of air. After that there would be too much carbon dioxide and he would lose consciousness before asphyxiating to death. He had complete faith that his crewmembers would find him before that happened. Dying was not something he wanted to go through again; it sucked the first time around.

A search of his pants pockets revealed that the Venuvians had taken the communicator from his pockets. _Shit._ Panic was not going to help him. His crew was probably already aware of his absence and would be starting a search for him. There was nothing in his _coffin_ other than himself. If he panicked he would start breathing faster, if he started breathing faster he would use up the oxygen more quickly, if he used up the oxygen more quickly then he would die more quickly.

_Just stay calm. _

_Take slow, deep breaths._

_Just stay calm._

_In, out, in, out, in, out._

If he closed his eyes maybe he could just sleep until he was found. He would consume less of the precious oxygen while asleep. It took a few tries but he was able to doze off.

###

"What do you mean he 'just went missing'?" an irate Southern voice carried all the way to the other side of the bridge.

"The Captain was behind us and then he wasn't," a frightened Russian voice replied.

"Ensign, it is unlikely that the Captain disappeared. It is reasonable to assume that he has been taken," Spock diffused the escalating conversation.

"Well, then who the hell took him? Chekov says that they were alone and no one on the security team saw anything."

"Doctor McCoy, I can assure you that we are using every available resource to locate the Captain."

"Why do I get the feeling that something bad happened to him?"

"The last three away missions have resulted in medical intervention; it is probable that this will also result in a need for your involvement," Spock turned away from the doctor. "Lieutenant Uhura, have you located the Captain's signal yet?"

"No sir, not yet. Sensor sweeps are at maximum," Uhura swiveled in her chair to deliver the news.

Spock walked over to the empty Captain's chair and activated the comm unit, "Bridge to Engineering."

"_Scott here, sir."_

"Mr. Scott, is it possible to modify the sensor arrays to increase the power yield?"

"_They're already at maximum, sir. Anymore and the relays will start to fry. I'll take a look but I cannae guarantee anything."_

"Do what you can, Mr. Scott."

"_Aye, sir_._"_

"Bridge out," the communication to the engineering deck was terminated. "We must look for alternative solutions."

"Can we outfit a shuttle to do low level sensor sweeps?" Sulu suggested.

"I think I can do that!" Chekov bolted out of his chair and off the Bridge.

"It appears so," Spock answered.

###

He snapped awake panting and his heart was pounding inside his chest. What was left of the air was stifling and hot, no doubt due to his presence inside the coffin. He quickly calmed himself down and regained control over his breathing. Without a chronometer there was no way to tell if he had been asleep for ten minutes or an hour. Hopefully it was the latter meaning that his crew was closer to retrieving him.

Another inspection of the stone revealed that nothing had changed. The stone slab was still too heavy for him to lift and there was no new air circulating inside. He huffed in irritation, expelling more carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. It was too uncomfortable inside to try and sleep again.

The darkness reminded him of something he tried to keep at the very back of his mind at all times. Sensory deprivation was favorite method of torture for Kodos the Executioner. Very few people even knew he was on Tarsus IV during the incident thanks to tight lips and even tighter security protocols on those files. Only one other person, who was now dead, knew that he was one of the _nine_. He had only dropped his guard for a second during a food raid for the kids he had rescued when he was captured by the Governor's security forces. All of the physical pain they could implement couldn't get him to divulge anything so he had been dragged to a pitch-black cell and tossed in.

He found out later that he had been in total sensory deprivation for four days before the door had opened, blinding him after being in the dark for so long. His eyes were so sensitive that he couldn't even tell the color of the Starfleet uniform on the officer who pulled his emaciated body into his arms. It didn't help that he had been hallucinating about his dead father and bastard of a stepfather, and fought his rescuers so much that they had no choice but to sedate him. Being locked in his own mind was a better form of torture than even the most sadistic person in the quadrant could cook up for him.

"_It seems that everyone has it within them to break themselves,"_ a voice echoed inside the stone.

"You're not real," he fought to maintain control of his emotions and breathing.

"_I'm real where it counts."_

"You have no power over me anymore, Kodos."

"_Funny you say that seeing that you're the one hallucinating about me."_

"You can't hurt me anymore."

"_You were a bright child, James."_

"Don't call me that."

"_Why not, James? That was the name given to you by your father."_

"You're not real."

"_This place does seem awfully familiar doesn't it? Does it bring back memories?"_

"You are not real."

"_Oh come now, James. I didn't even have to do anything to break you. You broke yourself."_

"I'm stronger now."

"_Are you sure about that, James? You and I are going to have a lot of fun."_

###

"I'm still not picking up anything on the sensors," Uhura announced from her station inside the shuttle.

"I can take us down another twenty meters with the current cloud cover, but anymore than that and we'll be seen," Sulu tapped the commands to lower the altitude.

McCoy was looking positively green as the shuttle made its brief drop in altitude. The current weather patterns and cloud cover over the capital city of Venuvia was creating a very turbulent ride.

"_The High Council is still refusing to answer our hails. It is a certainty that they are a part of the situation. Continue the ground sweeps for now," _Spock's voice resonated from the comm panel on the main display board.

"Aye sir," Sulu responded. "How are you doing back there, Doc?"

McCoy grunted, keeping his mouth closed for fear of losing his lunch all over the deck plating if he opened his mouth. Uhura let a small smile slip through before returning her focus back to her station.

"There are a lot of caverns coming up on the topographical scans. If he's underground we may not be able to pick up his signal assuming he has even has his comm unit with him," Uhura was frustrated after another unsuccessful sweep of the sector they were scanning.

"_The Lieutenant raises a valid scenario which we must consider. As we do not know the condition of the Captain we must assume that he is in immediate danger. If the next two sectors do not provide useful information then proceed LZ-2-gamma. I will inform the Councilors that you are landing with or without their permission."_

"You want us to land at the Temple?" Sulu questioned.

"_Affirmative. Time is of the essence to ensure the Captain's safety. That was the last place the he was seen_ _so it is a logical place to begin the search on foot."_

"Aye sir. I know McCoy will be glad to land."

"_Is the doctor experiencing discomfort related to flight?"_

"I'm right here you green blooded beast," McCoy ground out.

"_Yes, Doctor. _Enterprise_ out."_

"Sorry about the turbulence, Doc."

"Let's just find Jim so we can go home."

###

"You good for nothing piece of shit!"

His jaw was still stinging from the open handed blow. He felt strong hands give a hard shove to his chest and the next thing he saw was the ceiling.

"Get up, boy. Your father wouldn't have put up with your pathetic shit."

The hands grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him off the floor. He tried to swing his feet at Frank's shins but he was quickly running out of energy.

"Look at me when I talk to you."

His chin was jerked so that he had no choice but to stare at Frank's brown eyes. There was a violent mixture of raw anger and drunkenness. The man had come home much drunker than he normally did and pounded up the steps of the farmhouse and yanked Jim out of his room. Something at the shipyard's local bar must've set him off.

"You think because your precious daddy was a hero that you're automatically better than the rest of us?"

He knew better than to answer. The less he said the quicker the beating would be over with. It sucked that his mother was off planet again; it was the only time Frank was a decent human being. With the way he acted when she was around it was no wonder that she was completely clueless as to what was going on.

"Let me tell you something, boy, you're just a worthless piece of shit who won't become anything. Your daddy has enough star power for the rest of eternity for the Kirks."

This caused rage to flash over Jim's bright blue eyes and he redoubled his effort to kick himself away from his stepfather. Frank deftly caught his arm mid strike of a feeble attempt to punch the man in the nose.

"Stop squirming and take it like a man."

He wasn't sure what happened next but he felt the skin on his arm twist and then he passed out from a blinding pain. When he came to some time later Frank had passed out in his chair and he managed to thumb his way to a clinic to have his broken arm set. The doctor was suspicious but a few simple charms kept her from calling CPS. He slept in his dad's old corvette that night.

###

"_I assure you Kuhani Matik that Captain Kirk is here_," Uhura spoke their guttural language fluidly; making is sound more pleasant to listen to than when the natives spoke it.

"_Sister, again we have not seen your leader_," the priest replied, his long ears swinging against his shoulders with each vocal stress.

"Dammit, what are they saying?" McCoy growled.

"They're still saying they don't know where he is," Uhura didn't break eye contact with the Venuvian high priest.

"Did you tell them we know he's here?"

"Of course, Doctor McCoy."

"_Have faith, if your leader is worthy then he will be returned to you_," the Venuivan bowed, essentially ending the conversation.

Uhura returned the bow and then walked back to where McCoy, Sulu, and their small security team were waiting.

"Still nothing?" Sulu asked, his hand nervously perched on his side near his phaser.

"Nothing," Uhura affirmed.

"What exactly did he say?" McCoy was growing more irate by the second.

"He said that they have not seen him and to have faith that if he is worthy…Oh my god!" the gears in Uhura's head were spinning rapidly.

"What is it?" McCoy and Sulu asked.

"The high priest said 'if your leader is worthy then he will be returned to you'. That has to be it!"

"That sonuvabitch! They have him!"

"But do we even know where or what they're doing? How do we know where to start looking," Sulu's fingers were twitching over his holster.

Uhura flipped open her communicator, "Uhura to _Enterprise_."

"_Spock here_._"_

"I'm sure they have the Captain. The high priest said that he would be returned to us if he were worthy. They're doing some sort of ritual, I'm certain of it."

"_That does seem to be the case, Lieutenant. We will begin cross-referencing their religious practices immediately. Stand by."_

"Let's hope they find something," McCoy stated grimly.

It was only a few moments before Spock's voice filtered through the unit's speaker,

"_We have found a reference to an initiation ritual. If the person survives then they are deemed worthy enough to have a voice in the society. It is likely that they are doing this so that he is able to finalize their entrance into the Federation."_

"How is this performed?" Uhura's grip on the comm unit tightened.

"_It is based on sensory deprivation. If the participant conquerors their own internal demons they are then deemed capable for speaking for the people. It is used to show that the voice will be free from personal influence and put the needs of the community first."_

"So we're looking for somewhere dark and quiet?" McCoy asked.

"_Yes, Doctor McCoy, but as this region is populated by multiple caverns we must find a way to narrow down the possible locations."_

"If anyone has demons to face, it's definitely Jim."

###

"Tell me James, where are the rest of the survivors?"

The owner of the voice was tracing a finger uncomfortably across one of his own hands that were cuffed to a hook on the steel table. He refused to answer.

"You are only going to make things harder for yourself if you do not answer me, James."

"Kiss my ass," he spat.

The pain in his right pinky finger was blinding. He tried not to stare at the broken digit as he fought to regain control over his composure. That bastard was not going to get any satisfaction from hurting him. It took seven fingers before he cried out in pain.

"That wasn't so hard now was it? Tell me where they are and this will all stop."

"No."

"Are you sure that's your answer, James? You're such a bright boy, surely you can see that his path will be unfruitful."

"Suck it, old man."

Kodos the Executioner was a particularly vain man and he retaliated by kicking the chair from underneath him. He was left hanging over the edge of the table. There was ripping sound as the rest of his tattered shirt was torn from his back. He tried not to shiver to give the man the satisfaction.

"I'm sorry, James."

The first strike of the barbed whip caught him off guard and he screamed in agony as the sharp metal tore through the sensitive skin on his back. He could feel it rake all the way down his shoulder and across his back to his opposite hip. After the first blow, the second wasn't nearly as bad with all of his nerves already overloaded with pain. Mercifully he passed out after the fourth strike and he hung lifelessly by his bound arms.

Kodos must've gotten tired of trying to beat answers out of him. He regained consciousness while being dragged through a dark hallway by his arms between two guards. They halted outside of a heavy looking door; Kodos was waiting for him.

"I know that your step father beat you. I know that you are very resistant to physical means of persuasion. I have a feeling that your own mind will provide more powerful torture than anything I can come up with. Give me the information I desire and it will be over."

With a sadistic smile the door was open and he was thrown into the darkness.

###

"_The magnetic interference from the stone is blocking our sensors. We are unable to detect any biosigns, including yours."_

"Ya know, these things never work when we really need them," McCoy grumbled as they walked through a labyrinth of caverns."

"_I will send your complaints to the engineering team, but for now it is best to stay focused on the task at hand."_

"Smart ass," McCoy said low enough to not be registered by the comm unit.

The officers and their security team paused when the cavern they were in split in two. The stone was cast in soft beige color from the domed light fixtures that were placed every few meters. At least it wasn't pitch black down there in the caverns.

"Well, now which way?" McCoy was completely fed up with everything.

"Left," Sulu stated confidently.

"How do you know that?" Uhura asked.

Sulu pointed to faint footprints on the dusty floor of the cavern, "Footprints, they've been that way more recently than the right side."

They followed the left fork for several minutes when it ended in a larger cavern. It was extremely well lit with a multitude of the larger versions of the light fixtures that they had seen along the tunnels. There were three large stones situated in the center. A closer inspection of the first one revealed a thin line of space indicating that there was a top piece to the structure.

"He's got to be in one of these!" McCoy shouted as he ran his fingers along the seam where the stone pieces met each other. "Open them up!"

McCoy motioned for several of their security team to help him move the lid off. They tried to push it off with brute force but the stone wouldn't budge. It took everyone to lift the slab enough to raise it from the bottom piece.

"There's a ledge on the inside, that's why it wouldn't push off," Sulu bent down to look in between the open space.

The slab was lifted another inch so that they were able to pivot the slab and rest it on the base stone. It was empty.

"Shit," McCoy had already scrambled to the stone in the middle.

They got the second stone slab off more quickly, revealing a decaying Venuvian corpse. The smell of decay was overwhelming and the slab was replaced.

"He has to be in this one," Uhura grimaced as they lifted the stone slab off the third stone.

The lid was let down on the base enough so they could see inside. Greeting them was a Starfleet issue boot. Everyone quickly pushed the stone slab the rest of the way off the base. There was an overwhelming stench of sweat and urine, but inside was their Captain.

"He's not breathing, get him out now!" McCoy had his hand over Jim's blue lips.

McCoy grabbed Jim's head while Sulu and the other security officers grabbed other parts. They pulled his limp body from the tomb and laid him out flat on the cavern floor. Everyone but McCoy took several steps back and watched in horror as the doctor got to work.

"I've got no pulse," the doctor was ripping open his med-kit. A quick scan from the tricorder confirmed his fears, "Shit, asystole. I don't know how long he's been down."

The Captain's uniform shirts were quickly split up the middle by medical scissors.

"Someone start CPR!" McCoy yelled as he tipped Jim's neck up.

Sulu and Uhura quickly dropped down to their knees. Sulu placed his hands together and brought them down on Jim's chest. Uhura took the tricorder and kept watch over the nonexistent vital signs. McCoy was desperately trying to establish an airway, but the emergency mask from his kit was refusing to seal and activate. On the fourth failed attempt he threw it at the wall in frustration and dug around in his med-kit until he found the intubation kit. He held the compact scope in his left hand and deftly passed the tube in his right hand along the blade and into his best friend's trachea. McCoy activated the control screen on the box attached to the end of the tube and it automatically started delivering breaths into the Captain's unyielding lungs.

"Anything?" McCoy looked up at Sulu and Uhura.

"Nothing," Uhura pursed her lips.

McCoy took the tricorder from her and confirmed the readings for himself. He pulled out a small pack from his med-kit and ripped open the two pouches glued to the device. The electrode pads were applied to Jim's bare chest and the wires were connected to the device in his hands. He slammed hypo after hypo into his carotid artery as Sulu continued the chest compressions.

"I got something!" Uhura passed the beeping tricorder to McCoy.

"_Shockable rhythm detected, confirm shock," _the device connected to the pads sprang to life.

"Everyone back!" McCoy checked to make sure everyone was not touching anything on Jim. "Confirm shock."

"_Shock confirmed, please stand clear, shocking now,"_ the muscles in Jim's chest twitched as the electricity coursed through his body.

"_Shockable rhythm detected, confirm shock."_

"Confirm shock."

"_Shock confirmed, please stand clear, shocking now"_

Again the muscles in Jim's chest twitched.

"_Stable rhythm detected, shock not advised. Maintain electrode placement."_

"There we go! Jesus Christ that was close."

The group let out the collective breath they had been holding. McCoy quickly injected more hyposprays to stabilize the rhythm. He flashed a penlight in both of Jim's eyes and quickly ran his hand through the blonde hair before establishing an IV line.

"We need to get him to Sickbay immediately."

Two crewmen from the security team were instructed to retrieve a stretcher from the shuttle. McCoy continued to monitor Jim and adjust the ventilation settings on the ET tube until they arrived with the stretcher. Jim was transferred to the stretcher and secured with several straps. The small AED and bag of IV fluids were placed on his stomach and each member of the security team took a handhold on the stretcher. They were all but running back to the shuttle and once everyone was secured, Sulu lifted off and guided the shuttle back to the _Enterprise_.

McCoy sat on his haunches next to the stretcher with the tricorder firmly in one hand and the other hand holding onto Jim's. He would've missed the slight twitch if he hadn't had such a firm grasp on the digits.

"Jim?" he leaned over his patient.

The tricorder began beeping furiously as Jim's anxiety levels rose.

"Jim, can you hear me?"

His eyes didn't open but McCoy felt another twitch.

"If you can hear me, there's a tube down your throat to help you breathe."

The panic continued to increase.

"Jim, I've got you. We're going home," he gave Jim's hand a firm squeeze.

The digits twitched again and then relaxed.

"_Shuttle 25, you are cleared for _Enterprise_ air space."_

###

"Shall we begin, Captain?"

The twisted smile of Khan Noonien Singh was staring back at him through four inches of radiation resistant glass. He tried pounding on the glass but it wouldn't budge. If it wouldn't let subatomic particles through, there was no way he was getting out either. The heat in the chamber was just as oppressive as he remembered it and his lungs were struggling to pull in oxygen. He was dying all over again.

"Save your energy."

"I survived this once," Jim rasped.

"That is untrue, Captain. You were fortunate enough to have been revived."

"What do you want?"

"To break you."

"I'm already broken. I'm clearly seeing things."

Khan walked out of his view for a second but returned with his arms around Chekov's throat, "I asked you this once already, Kirk, is there anything you would not do for your family?"

Jim was pounding furiously on the glass, but it did not stop Khan from shifting his arms ever so slightly to break the young ensign's neck. It was like someone flicked a switch and Chekov dropped to the ground. If there were anything in Jim's stomach it would've returned.

"No! Why did you do that?" he couldn't take his eyes off the lifeless body of his navigator.

"Come now, Kirk, how many do I have to go through?" Sulu was in Khan's grasp now.

"Stop it!" Jim cried as Sulu fell lifelessly.

Tears were streaming down his face as Uhura, Carol, and Scotty's necks were snapped like twigs and they were dropped unceremoniously onto the pile of bodies growing at Khan's feet.

"I _will_ kill you again, you bastard!" he had resumed pounding on the glass but his body was quickly exhausting its oxygen and energy supplies.

"Please, you know you can't do anything."

"Jim!" McCoy cried out from Khan's grasp. "Jim, I've got you."

Something inside Jim broke when there was a sickening crunch and McCoy fell boneless to Khan's feet. A deep fire ignited and filled him with pure rage. He summoned all of his strength and launched himself at the door. It shattered into a million pieces and he heaved himself at Khan, taking him down to the ground. He grabbed the man by his neck and flung his head to the floor over and over. Bone after bone broke until Khan was lying there limply, just as dead as his crew, his family.

"Jim?" Spock was standing at his side.

"S-Spock?" he didn't remember seeing the Vulcan's neck snapped.

"Jim, this is not real."

"It seems pretty fucking real."

"I am here to help you, we are here to help you. "

_We?_ Jim looked around and saw that his crew was standing behind Spock, unharmed.

"It is time to return."

"I can't go back."

"Your past is unfortunate, but you have the ability to not let it control you. Jim, you are strong."

The radiation and loss of adrenaline had taken their toll on his body and he slumped to his knees gasping for air.

"Breathe, Jim."

Jim wanted to say something snarky in return but he couldn't breathe and talk, it was one or the other and breathing was a priority. His vision started swimming as his brain was being deprived of much needed oxygen. He could feel himself falling to the floor and everything was turning white.

###

"Jim!"

There was a cacophony of beeps, shrills, and loud voices above him. A bright light was flashed in each eye. He tried to move away from the offending brightness but he found that there was something rigid down his throat and his mouth had been taped closed around it. Something was choking him. He couldn't help but panic.

"Easy, Jim, hang on. I'm taking it out now," there were hands peeling off the tape off his face and the foreign plastic scraped painfully the entire way up his throat.

The tube was pulled free and he inhaled as much flowing oxygen as he could from the cannula placed in his nostrils.

"Calm down, kid. Breathe slowly. Sorry about that, I thought you'd be out for a while longer," there was a firm hand on his chest.

A cool ice chip was slipped into his mouth once he was able to get control of his breathing. It did little to soothe the fire that was raging in his throat.

"Can you open your eyes?"

He groaned and another piece of ice was slipped into his mouth.

"Real?" he croaked without opening his eyes.

"It's real, open your eyes and look," the hand on his chest was rubbing soothing circles.

Jim struggled for what seemed like an eternity before he was able to force his eyes open to the tiniest slit possible to let light in. There was a fuzzy blue blob hovering over him.

"Bones?" his voice sounded like he had been gargling razor blades.

"I'm here, Jim."

"Real?"

The hand on his chest moved to his forehead, "I promise I'm real."

Jim wasn't sure what triggered the tears. He could feel all of the tubes and sensors that were attached to him pulling at his skin as McCoy pulled him upright and into the crook of his neck. He clung onto the doctor for dear life and cried his heart out.

"We got you out," McCoy held on tightly to Jim's weakened body. "You're okay, kid. We got you out."

His sobs finally died off, leaving a large wet spot on the collar of McCoy's blue shirt. The doctor fed him a few more ice chips before gently laying him back down on the biobed. He tried to pull a hand to his face to wipe his tears away but his movements were halted by an IV line in one arm and a painful wire protruding from the inside of his wrist on the other arm. McCoy was already wiping the moisture from his eyes with a warm cloth. He was finally able to open his eyes enough for things to come into focus, mainly his best friend's concerned face.

"Better?"

Jim nodded.

"Want to talk about it?"

It was no surprise that Jim shook his head. He tried to look around but the curtain around his biobed had been closed. McCoy smacked his hand away from his face when he tried to pull at the cannula that was blowing oxygen into his nose.

"Leave that alone. It's either this or the oxygen field, and I know how much you _love_ that."

"What happened?" Jim took in the multitude of sensors stuck to his chest and IV containers feeding into his veins.

"You were taken and put in some sort of air tight box for a ritual. By the time we got to you out you were in full respiratory and cardiac arrest. It took a few tries but I finally got your heart restarted," McCoy's tone was all business.

"Anyone else?"

"Nope, just you."

"How long?" he was growing tired already and this throat was really hurting.

"How long where you out or how long do you have to stay?" McCoy activated the small device directly over his heart and watched the screen above his head intently.

"Both."

McCoy rubbed his hand tiredly over his face, "Well, we found you about four hours after you were taken and it's been about sixteen hours since we got you outta there. As for staying, you had a major cardiac event. You need to be monitored for the next forty-eight hours."

Jim rolled his eyes,"Booonnneess."

"Jim, you're still having arrhythmias. We need to make sure they resolve themselves so we can take you off the arrhythmia meds."

He let out a tired huff.

"Do you want some visitors for a few minutes?"

"Like who?" Jim rolled his head on the pillow to follow the doctor as he walked around the biobed working.

"Everyone, they've been waiting to hear that they can come see you."

_They're all okay._

"Yeah," Jim tried to push himself upright only to have McCoy's firm hand stop him.

"Easy there, you need to stay down for a bit longer."

Jim growled but was pushed back into the thin mattress of the biobed easily. McCoy was nice enough to pull the blankets all the way to his collarbones to hide all of the sensors and equipment stuck to him before leaving the curtained area.

###

Jim sat with his knees pulled to his chest on the sofa facing the large view screen at the back of the observation deck. Once he had been rescued, his crew had wasted no time in leaving Venuvia for their next assignment at a stellar nursery to study heavy element formation. He had been kept in sickbay for two whole days before being discharged at the end of alpha earlier during the day, and his feet had led him directly to the observation deck instead of his quarters. Luckily there wasn't a locator chip in the med sensor currently encircled around his wrist so he was safe from McCoy's wrath for a little while. Besides, technically he was resting.

There was something about the dense clouds of gases and rich colors of the nursery that were mesmerizing yet soothing. He could see the _Enterprise's _probes circling around the swirling gases collecting as much data as their comm signals could transmit back to the ship for the scientists to analyze. Surprisingly, the crew had been looking forward to this low stress mission after the SNAFU on Venuvia and everyone had thrown themselves into their work no matter how menial it was. Even Spock seemed happy, if a Vulcan could be happy, at all the scientific data they were collecting. The chemists at Starfleet Core R&D had looked like children on Christmas morning when they received their first transmission packet.

However he seemed to be the only one on the ship in a sour mood. It had been the first time he'd nearly died after actually dying. _Who knew it would've been so soon?_ The more disturbing part was all of the emotional wounds being held in sensory deprivation had opened up. Those two days confined to Sickbay was plenty of time for him to ruminate over what the ritual had stirred up.

He hadn't thought about Frank and Kodos in a long time; they had been locked away so deep that he nearly forgot about them. _Nearly. _Then the Venuvians, in an attempt to negotiate with the Federation, brought them all up to a rolling boil again. He had read all of the logs and reports from the mission and he understood that the ritual was meant to be an honor; it meant that the people thought that he had the potential to speak to the Federation in their behalf. Unfortunately that also meant that they wanted him to face his own demons before facing theirs.

"May I join you, Captain?" the Vulcan hovered behind him.

"I'm off duty, Spock," Jim replied without looking over his shoulder.

The cushions of the sofa barely moved when his First Officer sat down.

"Of course, Jim."

They sat there in silence watching the probes and the colored gases swirling around.

It was Spock that spoke first, "I have always found nebulae fascinating. It is a strange to think that stars have such a violent birth."

"Not exactly subtle there, Spock," Jim scoffed.

"My apologies, Jim, I was unsure how to start the conversation and I had noticed that most humans do not start conversations so directly."

"I think you need to pay closer attention to Uhura. What is it, Spock?"

"I agree with you; Nyota has been a satisfactory instructor on the intricacies of conversation but I still have much to learn. To skip most of these intricacies, I have noticed that you seem out of character since your return. I am sure you will be ignoring your required sessions with the counselor so I would like to offer my assistance where necessary. It is imperative that you take care of yourself so that you will function at full capacity."

Jim uncurled himself and stretched out, "Normally Bones brings booze when he wants to have mushy chats."

"Need I remind you that Vulcans are not affected by ethanol—"

"Spock, I get it. You're here to help," there was no need for so many words.

"Yes, Jim."

He sucked in a deep breath, "I appreciate it, Spock."

"Oh hey, I didn't know we were having a party," McCoy's voice boomed from the door behind them.

Jim didn't turn around but he could hear the clinking of glass from the antique decanter and tumblers in McCoy's hands as he crossed over to the couch.

"I hope you don't mind, Spock, I only brought two glasses," McCoy plopped down on the sofa, jarring the other two occupants.

"Shouldn't you be yelling at me or something for being here?"

McCoy pursed his lips as he uncapped the decanter and poured out three fingers of his best bourbon in each tumbler, "Doctor McCoy is absolutely furious with you right now, but I figured you'd be needing a friend more than a doctor right now."

Jim took the offered glass but did not move to drink it, "Thanks, Bones."

"Should I ask why you're here, Spock?"

"No doubt the same purpose as you, Doctor McCoy."

"I came here for a drink and to enjoy the view," the statement was punctuated by a long draw from his glass.

"Doctor, I believe that statement is—"

"Spock, he was being sarcastic," Jim rolled his eyes; some days he was sure Spock did this on purpose. "Guys, I'm fine."

"Bullshit." "Jim, I beg to differ."

"Wow, no need to jump at once," Jim was taken aback by Spock and McCoy answering in unison.

McCoy set his empty tumbler down, "Jim, don't take us for idiots. We all know you were held in sensory deprivation, and with the demons you have inside you, God only knows what you were hallucinating."

"Who says I was hallucinating?" he stammered.

"The first thing you asked me in Sickbay was if it was 'real'."

Jim was suddenly uncomfortable sitting in between his two friends. Both of them were staring intently at him with their eyebrows arched. He toyed with the tumbler of bourbon in his hands before bringing it up to his lips. The golden liquid burned its entire way down his throat and into his stomach. There was moisture welling up in the corners of his eyes just thinking about Khan breaking everyone's neck, of Kodos whipping him, and of Frank beating him senseless.

"Jim, we are here to help you," Spock had turned to face Jim.

It slipped out before he could stop it; "You said that right after Khan—"

"After what Khan did what, Jim?" Bones was sipping on a refilled tumbler.

He took a deep breath and spoke softly, "After he snapped everyone's neck while I was in the warp core dying...again."

"Who?"

"Bones, Scotty, Carol, Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura. Everyone."

"Is that all you saw?" Spock asked.

"No. I saw Kodos and Frank," he gulped down the rest of the bourbon in his glass.

"Jesus, Jim," McCoy sucked in a deep breath.

"I was tortured that way before, with Kodos. He locked me in a dark cell. I was in there for days before Starfleet finally came. While I was in that cell, I wanted to ram my head in the wall to stop it, but I couldn't. I didn't have the strength lift myself out of my own piss no less kill myself."

"Jim, your pysch files say nothing about this. This is serious! This is probably why you started hallucinating so soon after being confined," McCoy's buzzed head cleared instantly.

"Captain…"

"It's alright guys, I'm fine now. Besides, the files from Tarsus are classified way beyond 'Top Secret'."

"You do not have to face your fears alone, Jim" Spock added.

"For once I agree with the Vulcan, Jim, we will always be here for you."

Jim refilled his glass, "I know guys; I'm working on it."

"That's all we ask."

"I must say, Jim, I feel like there is a valuable lesson to be learned here—"

"Isn't there always?" McCoy snorted.

Spock ignored the interruption, "The ritual was intended for a person to overcome their personal limitations, but it is prudent to remember that relying on the strength of one's friends is not a weakness. It is an admirable trait that many great leaders throughout history have shown. It is possible that the recognition of this would make said person an even stronger person and wiser leader. In case you failed to remember, the Venuvians have seen your…experience…as a success and have filed a charter to join the Federation."

The trio of men sat there in silence for a few moments digesting Spock's words. Jim knew he was right. He always felt stronger when his friends were with him and he owed a lot of his success to them. Besides, it was them who rescued him, both in his hallucinations and in real life. They made sure that he came out of this alive. He would be strong as long as he had them with him.

McCoy was the first to break their ruminations, "Who would've thought Vulcans were so sappy?"

"Booones," Jim rolled his eyes.

"What? I'm just sayin'."

Jim looked out the window at the colorful swirl of gases and dust. It really was beautiful.

"Captain, if you'll excuse me, Lieutenant Uhura is waiting for me at the mess hall," Spock stood up fluidly.

"Thanks, Spock, for everything," Jim smiled.

"Good evening, Jim," Spock bowed slightly before departing.

"So are you really okay?" McCoy asked toying with the glass in his hands.

"I think so," Jim said confidently.

"Good, Doctor McCoy says you've had enough exertion for one day. It's time for bed," McCoy was already pulling him up by his arm.

"Oh c'mon, Bones, it's barely twenty-hundred hours."

"You were only discharged a few hours ago, you need to rest."

"Booooones," Jim whined as he was pushed out into the corridor.

"That won't work on me you infant; you're getting a nice big dose of sedatives when we get back to your quarters to make sure you stay down."

"I really hate you."

"Yeah, yeah, quit your bitchin'."

Jim's eyes pleaded for help at the group of ensigns walking down the corridor but they saw McCoy's glare and quickly pressed themselves against the bulkhead with looks of sympathy on their faces as the doors to the turbolift closed.


End file.
